


Thank Adam

by Zakani_Donovan



Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam Young is a prankster, Cliche, Cute, Fluff, Gay, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakani_Donovan/pseuds/Zakani_Donovan
Summary: It’s obvious Crowley and Aziraphale are into each other but they need a little nudge in the right direction. Therefore, who better than The Antichrist to bring them together?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800655
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	Thank Adam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KannaOphelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/gifts).



> Context: TV canon, after Armageddon.

After the Apocalypse That Didn't Happen, Adam actually kept his powers because he could sense that if he didn't, the Antichrist slot would open up back in Hell and they would assign a body for it to try starting (ending) it all over again.

For this reason, he started going to Aziraphale and Crowley so they would teach him how to control his powers better. He wanted to learn how to use it as miracles, not just thinking it and it happens, because that can lead to drifting thoughts becoming reality and that could be dangerous. So they agreed to teach him how to process his powers through miracles (snapping his fingers, making gestures, etc).

While these lessons were going on, Adam could sense there was something between the angel and the demon, he could practically smell the pining. And one day, before leaving for holiday in Spain for three weeks, he placed some handcuffs on them.

You see, they were taking a break from some of his lessons today and agreed to play a game. Adam always came up with the best ones, so it didn't take much convincing. The plastic handcuffs worked like normal throughout the whole game, but when Adam left the bookshop that night in a hurry with his parents to go to the airport, the two beings seemed to forget they were still attached to each other.

At least, **they** had forgotten until Crowley was about to head for his favorite spot on the couch again and Aziraphale was going to lock up and close the blinds the human way. He settled for a snap to do both tasks after tumbling on top of the demon thanks to the sharp tug which sent him backwards.

"So sorry, dear boy. I could've sworn he unchained us after he captured us trying to rob that bank." Said the angel with a groan as he shifted his body weight to kneel.

Crowley sat up, shaking his head. "He said he planned on doing that once we ratted out the rest of our team. We were about to cooperate but that's when his parents showed up. Where did he put that blessed key?"

Aziraphale helped him up and they looked for the key for several minutes before finding it in between the couch cushions. The only reason they had not yet miracle'd themselves out of them was because they were used to using a limited amount of miracles whenever they did lessons. Adam would get frustrated quickly when he saw them doing all kinds of things with tiny gestures and movements, meanwhile, he couldn't manage two in a row properly. He was impatient, but he wanted to learn, which is why he tried so hard.

Crowley stuck the small rod into restraints but the key no longer worked to unlock them. The angel frowned.

"Quit messing about and take these off already." He insisted, assuming this was one of Crowley's pranks.

To this, the demon handed over the key so the fussy being could see for himself. "It isn't me. Think this toy's just cheap and works whenever it likes."

Aziraphale concurred, fiddling more with the lock than Crowley did but got the same result. He huffed in annoyance and snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened. He glared at Crowley once more and the redhead raised both his hands.

"It's not me, Aziraphale!" He exclaimed.

To prove his point, he snapped his own fingers. He gestured, pulled, swore and glared at the cuffs with fully serpentine eyes but nothing happened. He then dragged the angel towards the flat upstairs.

"Tell me you've got knives or something sharp in that kitchen of yours." He practically pleaded as they climbed up.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "If magic doesn't work, what makes you think human utensils will?"

"I'm willing to try anything once, angel." He said with one final fierce tug and now they stood in the middle of the angel's kitchen.

"Suit yourself. Clearly something occult or ethereal is going on here."

"Well, whatever it is, I can't sense it."

Just then something clicked in their minds, both recalling their conversation when walking out the former hospital filled with satanic nuns. The angel gasped and the demon groaned.

"Adam!"

Crowley summoned his phone and dialed up the young Antichrist. He answered after the fourth ring.

"Hello?" The boy sounded like he was surrounded by people. Must've been a busy terminal.

"Adam! What the Heaven did you do to these handcuffs?! We can't get them off!"

"You have to confess."

"Confess to what?! You caught us redhanded, there was nothing to confess to! Unless you mean the snitching part of it. In which case, I was gonna say Pepper was the mastermind behind all of it and we were just her employees." He said, as if they were still playing their game. Aziraphale found it both endearing and amusing that Crowley could so easily go along with a child's imagination.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "We're not in the game anymore, Crowley. Confess. Or they'll never come off."

If the demon's blood wasn't boiling before, it was now. Aziraphale could almost feel the heat and grabbed the phone.

"Adam, my dear, it's Aziraphale. Could you please try to undo whatever spell or command you put on these handcuffs? We have things to do and this is truly getting in the way of that." He tried very hard to not sound as upset as he was.

You could practically hear the grin on Adam's face with his next sentence. "Sorry, you have to confess. It's the only way."

Crowley rolled his eyes while Aziraphale pleaded once more. "Dear boy, what are we supposed to be confessing? What could you possibly want us to confess to you?"

"It's not me you have to confess to. Oh- I have to go. Don't bother calling, we're boarding the plane!" With that, the boy hung up.

Aziraphale sighed and returned the device to its rightful owner. Within seconds, he was tugging Crowley over to the drawer where the blades were stored. First thing he grabbed upon opening it was the meat cleaver. He gave it to Crowley.

He placed their joined wrists on top of the cutting board of the kitchen counter. "Have at it then." He told the demon, not having any better ideas himself at the moment.

Crowley grinned, mostly because of his demonic nature and how well that fits with destruction. He moved their arms properly so he could get the little plastic chain at the perfect angle, aimed several times and then swung the huge blade down will all his might.

To their surprise, a small red colored forcefield glows when the strike happens. The two beings stare at each other before silently agreeing to try that again. Same thing happens, but Aziraphale notices it isn't the plastic handcuffs which start chipping away, it's the blade. There's now a small dent on it but the cuffs are unscathed.

The demon growls and hits it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. By now, the cleaver is threatening to fall apart in Crowley's hand. He threw it into to the sink and grabbed a normal knife this time.

This went on for several minutes, 37 to be precise. The demon managed to destroy every single blade in the angel's kitchen but the plastic toy which bounded them together remained as strong as ever. It was hard to tell who was more frustrated by this point. With a long sigh, Crowley snapped his fingers and gestured to the empty drawer. The destroyed blades which had be thrown into the sink upon failure were restored to their pristine and sharp state before putting themselves away where they belonged. So, kitchen utensils? Big nope. Next on the list of possibilities was power-tools. The angel protested but the demon insisted unless Aziraphale's humongous brain could figure out what the confession was.

He didn't.

They tried just about anything. Hammers, drills, power-saws, a hydraulic-press, a welding-tool, a flamethrower, even a bloody jackhammer, and they all did positively naught. For a brief period, Aziraphale considered praying to the Almighty to lend him his sword again and Crowley's tempted to use hellfire on them. When the two of them really thought about it however, they opted not to in case it would harm the other. 

Defeated, the two of them slump downstairs and start drinking.

~~~~~

"Y'know, Adam was turning into my favorite kid recently. With this little trick, I'm not sure whether to bump him down a peg or keep him at the top. He really is quite the little bastard." Admitted the demon after the wine seemed to cool him down.

The angel downed his fifth glass of wine and filled it a sixth time. "He's the literal Devil's son. Of course he's a bastard. If he was anything else, it'd be strange."

"True." Said Crowley. He played with his wine, making it swirl as high as the glass went but it never spilled, mainly because it knew better.

Meanwhile Aziraphale was staring at his desk, wondering if he had some kind of book which would help them decipher the boy's command. He sighed.

"You sound sad, angel. Can't have that. Drink more." The redhead told him, nudging his wineglass toward him.

"I've had more than you and, somehow, you're in a better mood than I am. Why is that?" He asked before having his sixth.

Crowley shrugged and leaned back on the couch. At least the angel's glass was empty when he did so, thank someone, otherwise there would've been a mess. "Kid's being mischievous and the demon part of me feels proud."

"Of course it does. Just like when Warlock's first words were 'up yours, wanker'. You reveled in that for **months**."

Crowley smiled fondly at the memory. "Yeah, good times..."

The real reason why Crowley wasn't as uncomfortable with the whole handcuff situation was because it gave him a reason to be near Aziraphale without it being considered unusual. I mean, obviously, it was unusual, they're chained to each other. But it wasn't the demon's doing, so he couldn't get in trouble for it. Even though it wasn't the most comfortable circumstance, he figured he should enjoy it while it lasted. The angel's warmth was always a welcome change from his cold-blooded nature and with the blond only inches away from him, he planned on basking in it like a lizard would take in the sun's rays on a rock in the desert.

Aziraphale on the other hand, hated being this close to Crowley and not being able to touch him. Technically, there was nothing physical stopping him, but his mind had always associated Crowley with a large neon sign which read 'do not touch'. This mindset was purely based on fear, whether it was of Crowley rejecting him or of their head offices catching wind of it varied but those were his main worries.

Now on his fourth glass of wine, Crowley's eyes widened at the awful thought that entered his brain.

"Angel, you don't think he means confess to..." He hesitantly pointed upward.

A chill went down Aziraphale's spine. "Or perhaps..." He glanced down at the floor.

The serpent of Eden nearly jumped out of his skin at the thought of speaking to his boss ever again. "No, **no**! It's gotta be something else! He knows we retired, he **certainly** knows what would happen to us if we try approaching them again."

Aziraphale groaned, frustrated. "Then what do we do?" He covered his face with both his hands and Crowley has to use every bit of restraint he had in his being to not caress the angel's curls.

The hand which held the wineglass now held the whole bottle. He drank from it and offered it to the angel. Aziraphale accepts the bottle and takes a swig himself. The bottle goes back and forth between them for some time, until there's nothing left. By now they have forgotten they have supernatural abilities so instead of snapping another from the rack in the far corner, Aziraphale thinks it a great idea to stand up and get it himself.

The crucial thing here being: he also forgot he was attached to Crowley. When he hopped up from the couch, the demon's arm went along and Crowley bumped into the angel's back. Some light apologies are made before they continue the trek across the room. Usually, it would only take Crowley about three long strides of his to reach the corner of the room, but that's when he's sober and doesn't have an angel on his arm who's currently even more inebriated than himself.

They step on each other's shoes, crash into the surrounding furniture, knock over the some books and finally end up falling onto the floor in a mess of giggles, which turned into hysterical laughter. 

“Oh fuck's sake, I love you, angel." Said the demon when he was trying to regain his breath, still laughing. He didn't even catch on to what slipped from his lips, he only noticed the cuffs loosening up a bit. However, Aziraphale certainly did heard what he said.

They sobered up immediately.

The angel glared at him, trying to steady his spinning head. "What did you just say?"

"I- I don't know, I was drunk." Said Crowley, wondering where his glasses had flown off to during the drunken tumble.

"You said you loved me!" Exclaimed the blond with disbelief.

The demon wanted to tun and hide. He had nothing to hide himself with, not to mention they were still connected. "You must've misheard-"

The handcuffs tightened again and they both gasped.

Aziraphale looks him dead in the eyes this time. " **That's** what he meant! **That's** the confession! Say it again!"

The demon's too afraid to say it sober, he doesn't want to deal with the rejection of just being loved in an angelic manner. Aziraphale can see the fear in his eyes, unable to hide behind their usual dark glass shield.

"Fine, I'll start." He said, taking a breath to calm his nerves, to say it without his voice bouncing, to make sure there was no doubt in the redhead's mind. " ...I love you, my dear. I'm in love with you. Have been for a few years now. In fact-"

They loosened again as he spoke but he was cut off before he could finish because Crowley's lips crashed into his. When they finally part, Crowley says it back and the cuffs fall to the floor and disappear.

"That damn kid's a genius." Muttered Crowley under his breath.

Aziraphale nodded, flustered. "He is indeed." Then he pulled him in for another kiss.

The back room was a total mess and it would stay that way for several hours, since the two beings were too preoccupied with each other's mouths to bother thinking about anything else. And who could blame them? They've been going mad for each other for millennia. Spending the whole evening attached at the lips felt like minutes to them.

~~~~~

When Adam comes back after his holiday and sees how Crowley and Aziraphale are behaving with each other, particularly when he hears the angel referring to the demon as "my love" rather than "my dear", he pats himself on the back, pleased that his plan worked perfectly. A bit more perfectly than he thought, even. Considering the ring on the demon's finger.


End file.
